


smeared mascara

by hariime



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Lots of Naki crying, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariime/pseuds/hariime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naki asks to be his ally. Tsukiyama accepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	smeared mascara

**Author's Note:**

> { please be gentle with me, what is writing fanfiction? }

There had been one too many admirers in his past. They came in forms of perfumed letters, lines quoted from overused poems, and compliments spoken in nervous whispers. Flattery was but only a fleeting of acknowledged emotions, enough to heal a bruise from an insult, but Tsukiyama had never been the type to be damaged. He was sturdy and usually unable to be swayed by another’s pretty words and gestures. They were fickle and based on momentary feeling, shifting with the seasons and time.

The flower doesn’t bloom based on how lovely its admirers are, but the sunshine and water it is given.

“Monsieur.”

This time flattery came in the form of blond hair and glassy eyes, blackened by cheap mascara and liner.

Tsukiyama had always been sure of his surroundings and the company he kept. It was uncertain how he had managed to draw in someone like him. A white suit adorned his frame, similar to his own by height and broad shoulders, yet it was not as pristine as he would have liked. His nose wrinkled at a spot on the cuff of the man’s sleeve, obviously a failed attempt to be laundered with bleach. He wondered what his eating habits were like to have dirtied his clothing so easily.

“Monsieur,” Tsukiyama repeated, earning him a startled glance from the other, confusion written in tears and running black. The dark color smeared over pale cheeks and the white of sleeve as it was wiped away; another stain Tsukiyama mentally added to the growing list he’d noticed.

“That’s… That’s not my name.” A hiccup, followed by a shift of weight on his feet, teetering anxiously in place. The air around him was permeated by his nerves, considerably different from when they had first met. He could practically smell the anxiety in his voice. His lack of eccentrics should have been a surprise to Tsukiyama, recalling their previous encounter had been nothing close to being smooth. Blood and tears had been shed, more from the other than himself, but it was luck neither were from his own doing. Perhaps he would not have been called upon if circumstances had been different. Nothing seemed to shock Tsukiyama anymore.

They were on a street corner, dimly lit otherwise for the overhead lamppost, casting a pale circle of light at their feet. Tsukiyama expected somewhere more discrete for a conversation. He was well acquainted with alleyways and secluded areas, knowing where to conceal one’s self for the sake of a quick getaway. Being a hidden dagger had taught him when he was to be of use and to run. Although, the latter occurred less frequently.

A quiet hum parted through pursed lips, playing at higher notes before Tsukiyama curled a smile. “What do you propose I call you by then?” Whether the question had been right or wrong left much to the imagination. It had gotten the other to stop crying, staring wide-eyed as if he had been offered something foul.

“N-Naki! Call me just Naki.” The volume in his voice was far too loud for Tsukiyama to bear under the quiet of their surroundings, forcing amethyst to cast about the area, searching for any sounds threatening to shatter the silence. No one else appeared to be in the same vicinity as the two, giving Tsukiyama the impression of trust from Naki. He must have anyway to come alone. Or he held very little of a price on his life. Many knew it wasn’t wise to venture by themselves with The Gourmet.

“I ain’t accepting whatever you’re proposing though,” a mild huff with another wipe of his dirtied cheek. Tsukiyama cringed on the inside for the poor suit. “I’m not the marrying kind, Gourmet.”

A misunderstanding, obviously. There was never, and would never be, an arrangement of the marriage sort. Romancing of the heart was complicated. Such as was his current situation, but Naki, as ignorant as he was to certain things, was not at all daft to his own matters. Including Kaneki’s. The ghoul already had a bounty for his master’s head for harming his precious Yamori. Tsukiyama wondered how Naki could favor such an uncouth man.

Without any effort, Tsukiyama brought a smile to his lips, one of feigned sympathy. “Naki, impulsive as I am, do I look like a man to offer marriage without a proper courtship?” The blond opened his mouth as if to actually reply to his redundancy, but Tsukiyama held up his hand to prevent another sputter of nonsense. “We are alike then. Marriage is not seen in my future… Nor are proposals, yet you must seem to have a proposal of some sort on your mind. Is there something you wish to offer me?”

This lack of confidence astounded Tsukiyama. It was a complete shift of character from their first meeting. Curiosity had him guessing the two bodyguards were his source of bravado, yet without their presence, Naki seemed to have none, relying on his own wits and tact to finish out his mission. Whatever it was brought on a bout of wonder, tilting his head to the side while Naki averted his attention elsewhere and rubbed nervously at his face.

“I’m not fucking proposing to you either! Shit, what do you think I am? Desperate?!” Dingy sleeves waved into the air, attempting to emphasize his point. One that Tsukiyama still hadn’t figured out despite his knack for being able to read people well.

“Monsieur… Naki, Naki,” Tsukiyama cooed, making light of the situation even though his patience was being tested. “While I believe it would take more than desperation to resort to marriage, I am only asking you one thing. Why are you here?” A simple question with what he hoped was an even easier answer, but with the way Naki struggled with words to arrange in his mind and reach his lips, Tsukiyama had his doubts.

“There must be something you wish to acquire.” Revenge was an unspoken want Tsukiyama could easily gather from prior experiences. Everyone desired one thing or another. Ghouls craved everything and more. Power, wealth, life, stability – their needs were different depending on status and direness for survival. Naki was too elementary. Too straightforward, too blunt, too honest. The other’s need were more emotionally fueled rather than depending on greatness and prestige. Tsukiyama nearly wanted to look away from the pitiful creature with his predictability, but amusement kept him from doing so.

“I want…” A slow start, a pause before Naki took in a deep breath, weighing out his phrases and articulation. It was uncertain whether or not anything else was going to be said with how little the man could force through his lips. The seconds passing were filled with silence; the streetlamp flickered occasionally with the hum of distant cars. Time was meant to be of the essence, and yet here, on a poorly lit sidewalk, Tsukiyama was wasting away his moments staring, waiting on a man that could barely hold together a conversation without the assistance of others to aid his confidence. Sighing, he allowed his shoulders to roll back, preparing to announce his exit when Naki must have picked up on his body language and finally spoke.

“I want to be your ally again.”

A joke, correct? Tsukiyama assumed this had to be a jest, a misfiring in Naki’s empty head that lead him to this ridiculous suggestion. “We could be a team like we were that one time! You know, where we beat up those Dove assholes? Awesome, right? I’m useful. I could be – ” Could be, nothing. Clearly, the Aogiri member was serious. It made Tsukiyama scoff, breaking off into a cold laugh that had him clutching at his sides and smoothing a hand over his fringe.

“People like me do not require allies,” The Gourmet replied instantly, biting off his laughter all at once. “People like you ask _me_ to be their ally. Your words are not at all enough to strike my interest in someone as yourself.” More of a liability than a benefit. Naki was of very little use to him in his long term goals. Tsukiyama was not at all stupid enough to admit the enemy into his circle when he was knowledgeable of the company someone as Naki kept. Aogiri wasn’t the type to let grudges go easily, and putting Kaneki in harm’s way would be something he didn’t intend to do. The knight protected his king. The sword cut away the thorns. Neither brought in poison to the kingdom.

But Tsukiyama was not bound to tell any of this to Naki. He knew better than to make matters worse. Especially not when Naki probably was aware of his circumstances, not when he had a hidden agenda, not when hot tears were swelling up in narrowed eyes and running down already damp cheeks.

“B-But… I can be damn useful! Tell me what to do and I can do it!” Naki’s hands were balled into tight fists, determination vivid in his actions. “C’mon, man. Even you said I was something about a gentleman and me being cool.” He was mentally grasping for straws, struggling to hold Tsukiyama’s attention. Although, the more composed of the two was left observing, dully eyeing Naki babble and nearly beg for his approval. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. Simple changes; a different face, another voice… The same scene, however. Tsukiyama had to question whether intentions were based off the desire to please or an escape route, a means to survive from a place Naki could no longer call his own.

Overhead the streetlight went out, leaving them in the dark. The white of Naki’s suit stuck out like a sore thumb beneath the sheet of black. Tsukiyama was appreciative for the ghoul’s poor choice in colors when it came to parading at night. It made him easier to see, although, if worse came to worse, it’d make hiding difficult. Even humans knew better than to pull such an amateur mistake. He silently praised himself in his tasteful ensemble of emerald green and black.

“I do not understand where this want for comradery comes from, but I can assure you… It is not wise to call me an ally, Naki. You’re ignorant, but I would not call you stupid like most. The respect I have for your honesty was only temporary. Since then my perspective has shifted,” Tsukiyama explained, straightening his posture to appear taller, to assert his dominance. “There is no use I have for you. You’re best turning tail back to Aogiri where you belong, non?” Aogiri was where Naki would remain until his purpose with them was deemed unnecessary. A mere resource bound to dry up. Tsukiyama could not blame them for their ideals. What was the point in a being when nothing else remained?

Adjusting his vision to the lack of light, Tsukiyama squinted at the man across from him, trying to read his expression. There wasn’t much. A raise of a brow, the flattening of lips – Naki didn’t like his answer. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting it, but with how they had been towards the other for what was merely minutes, he clearly had believed the opposite of what had occurred. It must be blissful to live through rose colored lenses.

“Since there is nothing left to discuss, I see our brief meeting adjourned, yes?” Tsukiyama didn’t wait for an answer once he’d decided to leave. He had no more words to spare on this disaster of a conversation. Such a waste of precious time and energy. Cautiously, he turned his back to Naki and began to walk away, breathing in the faint scent of salt and disappointment. How could someone cry so much over so little? To think, this ghoul had escaped from Cochlea. Tears were so unsightly for someone meant to be thought of as a threat. Tsukiyama inhaled the scent anyway, walking further and further away.

“H-Hey?! Are you serious?” Tsukiyama could hear Naki’s disbelief from behind him, but he chose to keep walking. He would learn easily where his loyalties should stay. Their business was headed in two directions. Naki was bent on capturing Kaneki. Tsukiyama, while his intentions had been similar once upon a time, he could no longer pin-point his purpose with the half-ghoul. Trust was one reason, but the other –

“This is some bullshit, Gourmet. Really, you’re saying ‘no’?”

Had Tsukiyama not been obvious enough? A quiet snicker escaped him, gesturing his index finger into the air as if to signal his reply. His back was turned and he kept walking away without bothering to glance.

“What am I supposed to do out here now? Go home?! Geez.”

There were other options, but Naki wasn’t a child. Whether he went “home” or any other venue was the last of his concerns. Tsukiyama had other priorities to attend; Naki being at the bottom of said list. It was a wonder why he tried so hard to sway him when Tsukiyama was unbendable.

“You’re a real dick…”

What an ungentlemanly thing to say.

“I have nowhere else to go, y’know…”

‘You’re not the only one’ Tsukiyama wanted to mutter back. The streets were littered with ghouls and humans alike without a roof or a place to call their own. Hungry and homeless was no new concept. Naki was no different, except he did have acquaintances that would share his lack of a home. It would be easy to pity the blond if Tsukiyama held less animosity for the company he kept. He would have graciously accepted his offer, taken it as flattery and moved on with his plans by tacking another onto the equation. He rarely took admirers as more than that, but he could have made an exception.

“I thought you were a good guy like my aniki…”

However, somewhere between a rush of pity, a need for a stroked ego, and vague fascination, Tsukiyama halted in his footsteps at the brief phrase, peering over a shoulder to see the crumped mass of white on the sidewalk crumpled in on itself with knees buried into a heavy chest.

“Yamori-san… You are like him. Kinda. My aniki. H-He… strong and didn’t look at me like others do. I’m n-not stupid, Gourmet. I’m not, I’m not!” Large droplets rained down in heavy streams, drawing patterns of black. Tsukiyama had never seen someone cry as incessantly as Naki. The once white cuffs of his suit had greyed out with dirty make-up, yet this time Tsukiyama wasn’t particularly focused on that. The monochrome watercolor of the other’s face was peculiar, enchanting to say the least. It wasn’t something he’d seen. It was natural. Seeing it, seeing Naki, a grown man sob for another, who was dead, it was a genuinity that unnerved him. He had never met a rare quality in a ghoul.

Quietly, Tsukiyama retraced his steps and returned to Naki, stopping at the quivering image. He had done so little to be given this reaction, to deserve it, but he assumed rejection wasn’t a kind friend. Tsukiyama knew nothing about friendships or what they were meant to be. Literature refreshed his memory in small increments though it held no meaning to him.

“Naki,” he spoke gently, bending down onto a knee, “Stop crying. It isn’t becoming…” It truly wasn’t. Crying was unsightly in front of anyone. Weak, disgusting, and uncomfortable on most people. Tsukiyama couldn’t remember the last time he had wept over anything. Perhaps as a child, possibly over not getting his way, it didn’t matter now. But there was something intriguing in the way Naki cried. He tilted his head to the side and reached out a hand, calmly pushing away a stray lock of hair that had managed to cover Naki’s face. “I wonder what your aniki would say with you groveling for my approval and alliance like this. Crying and filthy; you’d be quite a disappointment I would say.”

“Huh? A-Aniki…?” Naki sniffed loudly and ignored the running of his nose, making an even greater mess of his features. “H-He… wouldn’t like me very much, but I don’t... You remind me of him, Gourmet.” As great of a man Yamori had been with his followers and deeds, Tsukiyama didn’t want to be compared to someone as him. Of course, the compliment came from a place with good intentions. It would be foolish to think otherwise. Naki was an innocent (and foolish) soul. Tsukiyama had no doubts about that, but he did not want the name to be associated with himself. Kaneki and the importance of his trust were far direr than the admiration of the deceased ghoul’s follower.

Yet Tsukiyama was egotistical and needy, prone to mistakes and impulsivity. He drowned in praise, swallowed it like water, and held onto its momentary worth. Craving Kaneki’s acceptance and trust gave him purpose, gave him life. He was indifferent towards the words of others, even if kindness followed him rarely like it did when he was younger. Perhaps his loneliness was to blame. He would deny such ideals though. Lonely was temporary like an applause, and for this short-lived moment, Naki was an encore he hadn’t been able to experience since he had turned the restaurant over to Kaneki. Its demise was worth it in the end, he supposed. He was still waiting for his reward.

“Gourmet…? What you doing?”

Amidst his lost thoughts, Tsukiyama had drifted off to another place, forgetting where he was and what he was doing. It was rare for him to space out during something important, but it was becoming more recurring these days. Maybe he needed a distraction, one closer to home, that would keep his head fastened and out of the clouds. Perhaps another pet. No, something else. Something he couldn’t spell out or acknowledge honestly. Smirking, the hand resting still on Naki’s head slipped away from blond strands and instead outstretched in an invitation. He marveled at the confusion on such an interesting face.

“Call me just Tsukiyama.”


End file.
